


Let Me Cook for You Again

by LizFlowright



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Language, Love at First Sight, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-07 02:13:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18863659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizFlowright/pseuds/LizFlowright
Summary: After being stood up on a date, Izo is given the chance at love from a promising, young cook, Thatch. Does the cook actually have what it takes to win and keep such a beauty?A simple story, but hopefully you'll like this fluffy story.





	Let Me Cook for You Again

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. So, um, this is my first shared story. I'm sorry if I did anything wrong with it. Please tell me of any tags I forgot and if I can figure out how to add them, I will. I have some ideas for this one in the future, but unless someone wants this continued or I just randomly write it, this is all there is. If this continues, Marco/Ace and Usopp/Kaya are two other pairing likely to come up. After reading, please let me know any of your thoughts. I'd love the feed back. I hope to grow as a writer and thank for any advice you have.

When Thatch saw Izo, his heart skipped; The native of Japan’s beauty was so breathtaking even the slim angle between the door couldn’t weaken it. He stared at the well but traditionally dressed male. They seemed aggravated as a second bottle of wine was brought to his food-less table. Tinted lips seemed to sigh before handing a menu to the waiter, lips beginning to move before;

“Thatch! Do you want to keep this job?!” Carmen yelled, waving a ladle in a threatening manner, wild red hair mirroring her temper.

“Yes, ma’am!” the round-chef jumped up to avoid falling from the call. Even if they had the same level of employment, she was frightening. He moved to lock eyes with tonight's executive chef, petite as she was, “Chef, may I prepare table 16’s order?!”

The light haired woman looked at him a little surprised, “Uh, o-okay. But why?” Thatch beamed but didn’t answer her; he went to wash his hands and took charge of the order when it came in for the Asian. He’d pour his soul into this meal if he could.

~ * ~

For Izo, this evening was rough; he’d had a business meeting that had not worked in his favor, disappointing his bosses, and now he was clearly being stood up by his date. Was it him? Was he a failure? Was hoping for a good job and a boyfriend too much? He texted the guy who was suppose to be there, but got no answers. Maybe something had happened to them? 

No. His phone said they’d been seen. It was him…

Izo sighed heavily, “Fuck...  Well, I’m already here.” That’s where he had order another bottle of wine and his own food, dinner and dessert. It was enough of a bad day that he would try to have a good time now to turn it around. He would figure out later how to balance his budget to handle it. A simple, demi-glace medium raw steak, mixed vegetables and a hasselback potato for dinner and a small lava cake with strawberry cooley to come at the end of his meal. He asked the bottle be left to him once opened to not bother the waiter more than need be. He use to drink much more than this, but it had been quite some time. Two bottles was his limit for a solo night of drinking, especially on a night where anger and sorrow where his lone friends. 

The server was quick and friendly; Her long blonde hair was parted down the middle and pulled into a nice, low hanging ponytail. Her big brown eyes seemed to know how bad the day had been before Izo himself acknowledged it. Her name tag hung from the collar of her light blue button down, reading “Silk.” Her voice lived up to the name. She made it a point to walk past him often, checking on his each time, giving him small updates. If she wasn’t on duty, Izo wouldn’t be surprised if she would ask to join him.

Silk seemed to smile a bit brighter when she delivered his plant, “Here you go. Made by a chef with you in mind.”

Izo gave a slight laugh at the cheesy statement.

“No, no. Really. And by one of my favorite workers back there,” she tried to correct. Izo still only give a half smile, thinking she was just trying to boaster up the food before he began eating, “If you need anything, let me know, alright?”

“Thank you, miss,” Izo offered as she placed the plate in front of him. It smelled amazing, like a steak should, and looked as if it had come straight for a magazine; the perfect shade of reddish brown, caramelized from its skillet before it had gotten a light drizzle of freshly made sauce, though Izo now wondered if this steak would even need it. The potato had crisp edges but golden colored insides, still flakey, a small container of garlic butter beside it incase wanted. Broccoli and carrots sat between the two other items. They were the low part of the plate, but still looked nice. They were possibly sauteed in butter.

Izo paused and just looked at the food for a moment; somehow it warmed his heart in a way food never had before. He cut into with ease to see the perfect reddish pink. It glistened and a light amount of juice dripped free. The small bite was stabbed with his fork and the beef melted on his tongue. He’d had steak before, but this felt on a different level. He couldn’t describe it really. It was simple, but somehow more; Izo thought the care it had to have been given was astounding to make it THIS good. With each bite he tried to figure out what was done to enhance its taste like this, but he couldn't place his finger on it. The potato and other veggies were also good, but it was hard to outshine the perfect steak. Paired with his red wine, the meal made up for the failed date, almost for the whole day. He almost didn’t want to finish his meal in one sitting. 

Now that the food was there, Silk seemed to give him more time and space to enjoy it. She checked in on him about halfway through his meal again, giving a small smile, “You look happy. Is it that good?”

Izo paused, shifting his food in his mouth to speak to her, “It’s amazing. I wish I could cook half this well.”

“That’s great to hear!” she chimed, smiling with her eyes, “I’m sure he’ll be happy to know you enjoyed it.”

“‘He’?” it wasn’t that odd, but for some reason hearing the chef referred to by simple their gender surprised Izo. Maybe it was based on the bad day or that he had been stood up by a “he,” but it struck him.

“The chef who made your food,” Silk erased any misconceptions, “He requested to make the order for your table and I’m sure he’ll ask me how you liked it.” 

Izo gave a small nod. The knowledge given, though not dangerous, seemed odd. Part of him wondered if maybe he hadn’t been stood up but was dating this cook; maybe he was shy and asked him to meet where he worked to make a good impression, a memorable impression. It seemed extra odd, but it wasn’t that bad. Izo could play along with that.

“Do you need a box before dessert or are you still enjoying the steak?” she asked calmly.

“Oh, um…” Izo looked at his plate, “Maybe a small box. And if it’s no bother, maybe also the cook who made my steak?”

Silk paused for a moment to think, “Well, we’re a bit busy, but I’ll see if the kitchen can spare him, alright?”

“Thank you,” Izo offered with a smile, his lips now bare of make-up. Silk took the sitting bottle and topped off Izo’s cup slowly, allowing him to stop her if wanted. Then she went off.

* ~ *

Silk came into the kitchen with a small pile of dirty dishes to put in the sink and grab a small box, though she was quickly bombarded with the smooth but boisterous voice of the red haired chef;

“Did they like it?!” Thatch’s excited voice asked, looking back to the blonde waitress. He kept working on what was in front of him, but clearly distracted.

“Honestly,” Carmen complained, voice showing it’s huff with ease as she glared, “What the hell is with you today? Focus or-” 

“So Silk?” he interrupted her, clearly not listening.

Silk gave a strong nod.

“Aaaaah~ That’s great!” there was a half dreaminess to his voice as he spoke before tilting his face back to the food. Carmen gripped still, but her voice feel on dead ears.

“Actually, miss Cosette,” Silk directed her attention to the executive chef, who paused to look at her in the eyes as Silk got close enough to put the plates down, “That customer would like to see the chef who made their steak; can you part with Thatch long enough for that?”

The goateed male’s head shot up.  _ See  _ him? That beautiful creature wanted to  _ see  _ him?

Cosette pressed her lips thin. She didn’t want to say no to a customer, but she wasn’t sure letting a cook leave during dinner rush was best, even if Thatch wanted to.

Carmen sassed, “Let him go; He’s no help today anyway!”

“Carmen,” Cosette corrected, “He is just as needed as you.” She paused again, “...That table has a dessert coming, right?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Silk responded quickly, grabbing the small paper box to fold for him.

“Thatch, you can take out their dessert and then come right back, alright? It’s still needs warmed anyway.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Thatch perked up. Silk nodded before shifting through the room once again to get back to work and let Izo know the answer to his request. Thatch grinned ear to ear as he worked.

~ * ~

Izo was fine waiting, little box with ⅓ of his steak remaining for tomorrow already packed. He drank his wine and finished his broccoli slowly. As he sat there, he realized that his first thought of his date being his chef was unlikely, but he couldn’t put it fully to bed with how odd it was for someone to request making a stranger’s meal. He was curious of the man that would bring him dessert. 

The man who came out did not disappoint; he wasn’t his planned date, but he was definitely… interesting.

Although he was dressed for his job, Izo couldn’t help stare at the highly styled auburn pompadour; it made him look like a stepped right out of the 50’s. And this weird goatee sat on his jaw, shaped like a sideways moon with a triangle attached. What the heck kinda style was he going for? There was also a large scar on the left side of his face. He wore a large, almost cocky feeling smile. Given a thousand years, Izo never would have imagined a person like this, let alone think them a chef. The appearance may have been funny if not so unique.

The chef stood in front of him, placing the gumdrop shaped cake in front of him with a slight bow at the hips, “I’m Thatch, you chef from earlier. So you enjoyed your meal, huh?”

“Uh, yes,” Izo almost stuttered, forgetting English for a split second because of that charming voice, “Thank you very much for the care.”  
“Oh, it was no problem,” the red head admitted, a very slight blush coming to his cheeks, “Not everyday I get to cook for a beauty like you.”

“...” the Asian looked in shock to the boldness of such a line before a slight rosy tone crept to his own face before he spat out almost angrily, “You realize I’m a man, don’t you?”

“So? Doesn’t bother me,” The blunt answer seemed only to fluster Izo more, but Thatch continued, “Even if you don’t like guys, I can still think your the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” 

With that, the cocky smile was wearing on Izo more, making the blush grow more prominent. “... Thank you,” Izo’s voice was muffled slightly from embarrassment, “You and your meal have really, um, brightened up my day.”

“It was my pleasure, but if you’d  _ really  _ like to thank me, you could tell me your name.”

Izo’s sharp eyes widened slightly, again shocked be the man’s brashness. He thought on if for a few moments before cracking a half smile and offering his hand to shake, “Izo.”

“Izo,” Thatch echoed the name with a hint of a dream like tone. He took Izo’s hand and kiss the backs of his fingers lightly. “I’ll remember it. Please, come by again and let me cook for you.”

Izo all but froze at the kiss only able to nod slightly before Thatch dropped his hand and returned to the kitchen. The black haired male looked gently at his fingers.  _ What an odd man,  _ he had to think, but that wasn’t really a bad thing, was it?

* ~ *

Thatch returned to the kitchen only to lean against the swinging door; he was shocked he had kept his cool so well. He was more lovely up close. Those sharp, piercing eyes that looked like they could cut the thickest of bullshit. The graceful way his hair lay around his face. That thin jawline and high cheekbones. And a neck he could lose himself in.

“Izo,” he said the name once more before a waitress pushed into the kitchen and made him fall to the ground. Carmen, who was once again going to get on his case, saw the whole thing and couldn’t contain her laughter. Cosette gave a small sigh;

“Please get back to work, Thatch.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

~ * ~

Two and a half weeks later, a man stood outside the restaurant. His long black hair was let to lay down, free on his back and he wore a simple suit. His lips were painted red and his sharp, intense brown eyes were lined and had a hint of dark pink shadow on them. A heavy sigh was forced from his lips; he was scared for the first time since he’d gotten his current job. Just because he hadn’t been able to stop thinking of the cook meant nothing to the other parties weeks.

“This is crazy…” Izo murmured.  _ But nothing ventured, nothing gained.  _ He opened the door knob, remembering the kiss to his hand and hoping that man, that Thatch remembered him as well.


End file.
